


Changes

by SaraHerbertWatson



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Asperger's Syndrome, Autism, Autistic Sherlock, Friendship/Love, Gen, Post-Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-17
Updated: 2012-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-28 11:32:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2730890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaraHerbertWatson/pseuds/SaraHerbertWatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock hates a lot of things: changes, socializing with others, eye contact, touching and being touched - but Sherlock loves John Watson. After living with Mycroft for 3 years after his Fall, he's about to reappear in John's life again, changing everything for both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changes

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this before series 3 came out and posted it upon my tumblr

Sherlock Holmes stood across the street from John Watson’s new flat building. One hand was at his side, tapping his thigh, the other was in his pocket, rubbing his thumb over the bumpy side of the key Mycroft had given him.

Everything was planned perfectly - Mycroft had done so much. He made sure Sherlock was at the flat at a time when John was there; he made a copy of the building’s key for Sherlock so he could get in without having to awkwardly ask John to ring him up - everything was set. Except for one thing: Sherlock had not a clue as to what to say to his once-best-friend-and-flatmate.

Sherlock was never the best with words or timing or tone or pretty much anything that had to do with conversing other than the actual speaking bit, and it was even harder when it came to John. He always seemed to find a way to say the wrong thing and hurt his feelings, so now - just this once - he wanted to say the perfect thing. He knew that just one or two sentences weren’t going to fix everything, but Sherlock just wanted to say the right thing for once.

He tried thinking of the right thing for three years, and no words had come.

Mycroft knew this, too. And yet he let Sherlock go into the cab that morning, anyway. He had even asked him; “Do you know what you’re going to say to John?” “No,” Sherlock had answered, and Mycroft let him into the cab anyway. Maybe he thought Sherlock would come up with something in the hour he had in the cab? Sherlock didn’t know. He just knew that he was within twenty feet of John Watson and, after three years, he was finally allowed to speak to him.

He crossed the street and got to the door, taking the key out of his pocket. Mycroft had visited John and told Sherlock that he was on the second floor - room number five, but Sherlock looked for his nameplate on the side of the door, anyway. JOHN WATSON was written in John’s neat scrawl next to a metal R5. John had put his name there only a month after the fall, Sherlock deduced.

Sherlock unlocked the door and let himself up to John’s flat, his mind buzzing.

_"Hey, John - I know I died right before your eyes but I’m back now - I was alive the whole time - and I’m sorry."_

_"Hey John - I didn’t actually die!"_

_"John I missed you so much."_

_"John I’m sorry I’m a shit friend."_

_"John I didn’t die but I couldn’t tell you - it was to protect you - it was all to protect you - it was all for you."_

_"John I’m sorry."_

He knocked on John’s door with a shaky hand - three quick, sharp knocks. It was then Sherlock noticed the lump in his own throat, and his difficulty breathing. Everything was changing and he hated change but he loved John John was his best friend and -

The door opened, revealing a shock-still John Watson. "John!" Sherlock was able to exclaim gleefully before getting punched in the face.

Sherlock had been punched on various occasions, mostly by school yard bullies when he was young, but this one caught him off guard, even though this was the most-deserving punch he had ever received.

He landed on the floor and held his hand up to his throbbing cheek, looking up at John as John stared silently back down at him.

Sherlock was able to deduce that John was getting ready to go out, probably to Ella for a therapy session; he had nightmares last night and every other night since the fall; his cane was back -

His cane was back. His limp had returned. It didn’t matter in the slightest that it was psychological - Sherlock had caused it and god he hated himself for it.

He met John’s eyes and he could see the hurt and betrayal and fear within them. The only thing that kept Sherlock able to hold John’s gaze was the small amount of relief, buried under the other emotions his eyes screamed out.

"I…I deserved that," Sherlock said, breaking the dead silence between them.

And suddenly the world was in motion again.

"Shit, Sherlock - Sherlock oh my god -" John started, as if Sherlock’s name was new in his mouth.

"Call Ella and cancel - I’ll explain everything."

…

Soon enough Sherlock and John were sitting on the couch with a bit more distance between them than usual, and, while nursing his face with an ice pack and tapping his knee, he explained everything to John, finishing with, “I was trying to protect you, and if I could I would’ve let you in on everything, but it’s me - it’s really me - I didn’t die - and I’m sorry John. I’m so, so sorry.”

John was silent, taking everything in. Sherlock remembered when John said Sherlock was brilliant when he was smart like this, and his dead silence worried him. It made Sherlock think of something Mycroft informed him of last year:

"John may not be forgiving when he finds out you’re alive, you’re aware of this, aren’t you?" he had asked.

"You don’t know John like I do," Sherlock spat at him.

"Maybe I don’t, but I know he’s been hurt."

"I want to see him," Sherlock had said, which is what he always said when they spoke of John.

"I know."

Sherlock took a breath, choosing his next words carefully. "I…I know I’ve been a shit friend, and I - I’d understand if you -"

And then John lunged towards Sherlock, pulling him into a hug. John pushed his face into Sherlock’s shoulder, sobbing.

Sherlock looked down at his friend, at a loss as to what to do. He and John had never hugged before. Not only that, but this much touching was a bit off-putting for Sherlock. But it was John, so Sherlock slowly wrapped his arms around the sobbing mess that was John, and hugged him back.

"You’re back," John whispered in relief.

"And I’m not going to leave you again," Sherlock promised.

Things were going to change, and although Sherlock hated changes, being back with John was worth it.


End file.
